CHAPTER FORTY

XL
John, Bill and Jeannine were driving back to Denmark in a truck they’d stolen. They had a year to find a hundred soldiers, and John figured that, what with his being the rightful king of Denmark, he’d have no trouble finding some there.

“Being the rightful king of Denmark, I’ll have no trouble getting soldiers to fight for me,” he explained to Bill, whose head was hanging out the window.

“But John,” said Jeannine, “in your absence, the people may have elected a new king. They’re very impatient, you know. I’d say there’s a decent chance that you’ll no longer have power there.”

“Nonsense, why would they do a silly thing like that? I’m the only leader Denmark will ever need,” asserted John. “Besides, they owe me for getting rid of Claudius. Even on the off chance they have a new king already, they’re bound to give me the men I need out of sheer gratitude for killing that horrible fiend.”

“I probably should have told you this before you killed him, but Claudius was the most beloved king Denmark ever had. Your father, on the other hand, regularly executed peasants for his own amusement,” said Jeannine.

“Are you saying Claudius was a better king than my father?” demanded John. “Because that’s sure what it sounds like. And I never misinterpret things.”

They drove into a pothole, causing Bill (who wasn’t wearing a seatbelt) to fly head-first out the window. John didn’t stop.

“No, no! Of course not! Well yes,” said Jeannine quickly.

Now John stopped the car, turning to stare threateningly at the woman so unreasonably infatuated with him. When he spoke, it was slowly and deliberately, with menacing emphasis placed on every syllable.

“I respectfully disagree.”

He drove on. After a few miles, John and Jeannine spotted Bill on the side of the road, waving to them.

“How the hell does he keep doing that?” wondered John as he stopped to let the garbage man enter.

“Hey guys! What’s up? Did you see that cloud that looked like a faucet? Wow, it was so cool! Just like me. My mom says I’m the coolest –”

John nodded to Jeannine, who put a large piece of duct tape over Bill’s mouth as John started up the truck once more. Unfortunately for them, Bill was immune to duct tape.

“Anyway, where were we?” John asked.

“You’d just asked me out,” replied Jeannine, figuring she might as well take the opportunity.

“No, that can’t be right. I’d never do that,” said John plainly.

“You know, you’re very unresponsive to my advances,” noted Jeannine with just a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“Yes, well, you’re very ugly,” said John.

They drove on in silence until they reached Denmark, that is, unless you count Bill’s rambling. John didn’t have time to listen, however; he drove straight to the palace, which he was later shocked to learn was not at all as he remembered it.

His castle was in ruins. Dead bodies littered the courtyard and the once magnificent tower was dented and crumbling. A dense fog surrounded the building, foreboding and cruel.

“What happened here?” asked John, aghast.

A man ran up to their truck, and John rolled down his window, awaiting some sort of explanation.

“King John!” he cried. “You must – a terrible – horrible – I can’t – follow me!”

“He can’t follow himself?” asked Bill. “That’s just stupid!”

“Not as stupid as you,” muttered John.

“What?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Oh.”